


Pounded In The Butt By The Hot Lesbian Personification Of My Own Sanity

by Anonymous



Category: TINGLE Chuck - Works
Genre: Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, F/F, Humor, Other, Parody, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Science Fiction, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 11:13:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6326785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bar is a normal fangirl who begins to question her sanity after reading the entire works of erotic author Chuck Tingle over the course of one month. But when her hot lesbian sanity shows up in her bedroom and shows her the true cosmic significance of pounding butts things take a turn for the erotic.</p><p>This erotic tale is 2,300 words of jokes and sizzling human on anthropomorphic personification action, including anal, fisting, and cunnilingus, but mostly jokes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pounded In The Butt By The Hot Lesbian Personification Of My Own Sanity

**Author's Note:**

> I realized after I finished this that Tingle prefers present tense, but I can't be arsed to change it. Or edit it. I feel that's in the spirit of the Tingleverse, although I couldn't bring myself to insert weird typos into the porn.
> 
> There is not actually very much porn in this.

I was just an ordinary bisexual fangirl who spent too time reading and writing about fictional characters on the internet when I decided it would be fun for a laugh to read the entire works of erotica author Dr. Chuck Tingle, a mysterious martial arts master from Billings, Montana, in one month. At first I wasn't very impressed. The early stories of handsome bigfeet and billionaire dinosaurs were just kind of weird, formulaic erotica, and Chuck Tingle’s herbivorous dinosaurs ate an awful lot of steaks, so I didn't think much of his paleontology knowledge. Plus his dialogue punctuation really needed work, although I guess it got better in the more recent books.

But as I read on, I found myself sucked into deeper and deeper fascination with the Tingleverse, a layered multiverse of increasingly surreal gayness that lead to inevitable butt-pounding and the deep spiritual out of body experience of the prostate orgasm—at least if you were a hot human twink, a sensitive stegosaurus gambler, or a taco-stealing velociraptor. But at the same time, the more I read, the more I felt a strange sense of sadness and ennui. What was I doing with my life? Would I ever find the same sense of unconditional love and acceptance that a regular guy could find with his hot coffee boyfriend or a unicorn biker gang? Without a prostate, could I ever know the ecstatic feeling of oneness with the universe described on these digital pages?

I closed my laptop on Chuck Tingle’s latest title, _Turned Gay By The Existential Dread That I May Actually Be A Character In A Chuck Tingle Book,_ set it aside, and leaned back, shaken. It wasn't funny anymore. Maybe my struggle to find the right direction in life had a simple explanation: I was actually a poorly characterized background witness to other people's journeys of self-discovery as they embraced their inner and outer gayness. Had I been Tilly the dental assistant, who was probably hoping her jerk boss would never come back from his attempt to somewhat illegally murder Cecil the handsome unicorn? Maybe I was Brad’s wife Carrie, watching my husband discover that he, too was part of the Tingleverse, only to conveniently disappear offstage as he got anally pounded by the personification of his existential dread that he might actually be a character in a Chuck Tingle book.

I couldn't remember. I also couldn't remember the last time I got laid, much less pounded in the butt, but that just made it even more likely that I was a character in the Tingleverse, where women are always silent extras or shrewish harpies.

“There are worse things than being a character in an erotic short story,” said someone in a low, husky voice, startling me from my reverie. I turned to find a woman sitting next to me in bed. She had luscious breasts peeking out of the low neckline of her cocktail dress, sexy curves, and really great biceps. My mouth went dry with lust. I mean, I was still bisexual, and if the right velociraptor or ruggedly handsome bigfoot knocked on my door I wouldn't say no, but I definitely felt gayer the moment my sexy visitor appeared in my bed. “For one thing, you'll definitely get laid.”

There was something strangely familiar about my sexy visitor, like someone I'd glimpsed before, but in the dark and probably running away from me.

Could she really be…?

“Yes, Bar, I'm your own sanity.”

“Wow,” I said. My sanity was a lot more femme than I would have expected, although she obviously worked out, too. She had short, curly dark hair and full red lips, and she was wearing sparkly eyeshadow. She also glowed in the dark a little, but in a sexy way, not like a nightlight or anything. “I never thought I'd meet you.”

“You've met me before, like that time you stayed up way too late and wrote dinosaur porn. To be fair, I was leaving for a vacation at the time, so we didn't have time to meet properly.”

I blushed. I was actually pretty proud of that one, even though it didn't really fit with the Tingleverse’s positive messages about love and consent.

“Why are you here now?” I asked, even though on some level I already knew. I could feel the attraction between us, a magnetic feeling of slightly narcissistic kinship. She was part of me, but I felt like I didn't really know her anymore, which made her exotic and intriguing.

“You've started to doubt your reality,” said my sanity, gazing at me with soulful dark eyes. “Reading so many tinglers in a short period of time can have certain...effects.”

I thought of the protagonist of _Reamed By My Reaction To The Title Of This Book_ and his poignant simultaneous discovery of his own gayness and his transient fictional nature. I didn't want to disappear after only a few thousand words, even if I got to bang my genuinely bodacious sanity first. The fact that I was using words like “bodacious" was a worrisome sign. “I'm not a character in one of Chuck Tingle’s stories,” I rationalized. “There are hardly any women in them at all, and they never have conversations with the sexy anthropomorphic personifications of parts of their own psyche.”

“Chuck Tingle isn't the only author,” said my incredibly hot sanity. “You’re a writer. You should know that already. And come on, half your friends call you Bar. That's a noun, not a name.”

“It could be short for Barbara,” I said, defensively, even though it wasn't.

“It's short for Barbados. No one names their daughter Barbados. And your friends who live in the internet...do you think real people have names like Private Sass and Sathisfaction?”

“I've met some of them! Dr. Kálvin is a real person!”

My sanity smiled at me, pityingly. “But she's not a _real_ doctor, is she?”

“Well...no.” Actually, I was starting to wonder if I _had_ really met Dr. Kálvin, who wasn't a doctor, or even a sentient robot. Too bad. A story about a sentient robot doctor would be kind of hot.

My sanity glanced down at her watch, which instead of a dial had a number on it. As I watched, it ticked over to 1058. “I could try to explain more, but we need to start banging soon,” she said. “The readers really want to know how lesbians fit into the Tingleverse, and we have a wordcount to worry about.”

The sexy anthropomorphic personification’s cocktail dress had disappear, leaving her in a set of tiny lacy underwear that barely concealed her impressive assets. I crawled across the bed towards her and pulled it aside with my teeth before burying my face in her pussy. I couldn’t really think of a lesbian equivalent to choking on a massive cock, but I did get a pubic hair stuck in my teeth.

“Sorry,” my sanity said sheepishly, but I didn’t care. She tasted amazing, and a sense of peace suffused me, like I had finally found where I really belonged in life. I thought about winking up at her flirtatiously, but I couldn’t figure out how to do it without breaking my neck. Being in an erotic short story was harder than it seemed! Before long, she was coming, her thighs clamping around my head as she writhed and moaned, covering my face with her juices. “You’re amazing,” she breathed, kissing me. “Now, lie back and let me take care of you.”

Before long she had three fingers inside me, and then her entire fist. “Oh my god,” I said, “you’re fisting me. Oh my god.” I could feel the hot tremblings of orgasm begin in my pussy, radiating outwards to consume me as I screamed, “FUCK ME, MY OWN SANITY.”

Afterwards I flopped bonelessly across the bed, my head spinning. I'd just had the best orgasm of my life, but that vague sense of existential panic had returned, once again swelling as it threatened to overwhelm me with despair at my directionless, insufficiently gay life.

“That's because I haven't pounded you in the butt yet,” my sanity said, producing an enormous strap-on from thin air. “You can't really understand the Tingleverse until you've been pounded in the butt.”

“Um,” I said, kind of nervous even though I badly wanted my sanity to bend me over the bed and pound my hot human ass with that medical-grade silicone cock, “not that I don't like butt stuff, but that's kind of gigantic and I've never seen any lube in the Tingleverse....”

“Don't worry,” my sanity said, prowling towards me in a dominant manner, hips swinging like a fifties movie starlet, “we're in an erotic short story. Nobody ever needs lube in erotic short stories. Now, bend over and show me that cute human butt.”

In a fog of erotic lust, I had just enough presence of mind to grab a pillow to stick under my hips before my sanity planted one hand in the middle of my back, grabbed me by the hair with the other, and shoved her silicone cock into my dripping pussy, making me shout in surprise and ecstasy.

But that wasn't what I _really_ wanted, not anymore.

“Pound my tight bisexual human ass with that silicone cock!” I said, trying to look back over my shoulder and give her a flirtatious wink. It was a lot more difficult than Chuck Tingle’s protagonists made it seem, both the winking and the looking over my shoulder, but at least this time I didn’t have to break my neck to do it. “Make me question your very existence!”

“Is this what you want, you filthy little human slut?” my sanity purred, pulling out with a wet slurp and positioning the head of the dildo at the rim of my asshole, teasing me. “Tell me!”

“Yes!” I cried, so desperate for a hard anal pounding from my sexy lesbian sanity that terrible porn dialogue spilled from my lips. “I want it! I want you to pound my butt so hard I become one with the universe!”

“Huh,” said my sanity thoughtfully. “I suppose we won't know if that's possible until we try it.” With one long push she crammed the enormous dildo into my tight bisexual human ass, working it deeper and deeper until I could feel her muscular thighs pressed against my asscheeks. I was filled fuller than I'd ever been before, so full I didn't even care about my empty, aching pussy. It hurt a little bit, but in a fantastic way, even though I didn't have a prostate. Maybe it was the magic of the Tingleverse, the ambient gayness that made all butts the repository of ultimate pleasure. I didn't really give a fuck. I just wanted my sanity to ream me out in repayment for all the weird shit I wrote because it seemed like a good idea at the time, including this story. I guess I'd pounded her in the butt before, even though I didn't know it and it was only metaphorical, and it was time for the tables to turn. 

“Oh my god,” I mumbled into the mattress. “Are you _sure_ I don’t have a prostate?”

“It’s not really about the prostate,” my sanity said, reaming my ass harder. “It’s about being hard. Women can be hard buds, too. Being hard is a state of mind. Reach for it, Bar!”

I came again, even harder, like a real buckaroo. It seemed to go on forever. I felt like I was floating, like I'd finally glimpsed the essential gayness of the universe, just barely out of reach.

As I looked at the anthropomorphic personification of my sanity, I felt wistful, like I was never going to see her again. We'd been through so much together and I think I loved her a little bit—maybe a lot—but after all the revelations of the evening, I just couldn't see how we could stay together.

“I have a gift for you,” she said in her sexy, sane voice, and produced a package. It was wrapped in sparkly rainbow paper with a big gold bow on top, and I tore it open like a kid at Christmas.

Inside the box was a glittery blue double-ended dildo. It seemed to glow with erotic promise.

“We haven't reached the ultimate singularity of gayness yet,” my sanity said. “Dr. Chuck Tingle and his colleagues in erotic writing have done amazing work with the button, but there are still millions of women in the Tingleverse with only wine and Netflix for company, and it's not even a sexy lesbian living bottle of wine. The Singaylarity cannot be reached by men alone. The women of the Tingleverse need you, Bar.”

I wanted to pick up the dildo, desperately, but something in me hesitated.

“Will I ever see you again?” I asked.

My sanity leaned over and kissed me, in a way that was simultaneously sad and hot, with a lot of tongue for a farewell kiss. “You know it was too late for that several stories ago,” she said. “Probably around _Helicopter Man Pounds Dinosaur Billionaire Ass._ I'll miss being your sanity, but I'd only hold you back now.”

“I'll always remember you...and tonight,” I told her, my heart aching, but I knew she was right. I reached into the box and picked up the dildo.

The room seemed to melt around me into a whirlpool of rainbows and glitter, my sanity disappearing along with my laptop, my IKEA bed sheets, and my Finnish textbooks, but I wasn't afraid anymore. Who would I become first? A mysterious, brooding velociraptor scientist with a secret longing for love and acceptance from the new human lab assistant? A literally smoking hot lady dragon librarian senator with a hoard of brand-new dildos just waiting for the right princess? An exotic, decadent European living cupcake ready to frost some hot California surfer girl’s face with my sugary cum? A living bottle of sexy red wine with a Netflix subscription for two? I didn't care.

I was ready for the biggest lesbian adventure of my fictional life.

**Author's Note:**

> Cheers to the friends who encouraged this madness and let me borrow versions of them for cameos, my fellow Chuck Tingle fans, and nonnies on FFA from whom I stole some of the final scenarios. I don't go there anymore because I had to go cold turkey on the timesuck, but the Tingle threads were a joy and delight.
> 
> I am not actually a character in the Tingleverse...or am I?
> 
> Are _you_?


End file.
